Chronicles of a Divided Galaxy
by TheIdiocyWizard
Summary: When an alien race lands on Earth, bringing tales of other, more hostile life among the stars, what will happen when mankind meets that hostile life. AU. Rated T, but might become M in the future.
1. Chapter 1

A/N Hello all, welcome to Chronicles of a Divided Galaxy. I thought of this the other day and couldn't get it out of my head, so I decided to put imagination into written form. Please, let me know if I should continue.

I don't own Mass Effect, but all OC's, the plot and new races in this story are my own unless otherwise specified.

* * *

_September 5th, 2157_

Captain Harrison was not having a good day. He wasn't necessarily having a bad day, nothing had gone wrong _yet_, but it most certainly could have been better.

The grizzled, forty year-old man was in command of the garrison guarding the colony of Shanxi, a fairly important colony in the ever-expanding territory of the Alliance. He knew it was an important posting, but sometimes the monotony of it all made him want to quit sometimes. Between an endless cycle of repeating the same patrol route over and over again, and filling out a stack of paperwork that _never seemed to get smaller, _Harrison would have been glad for just about anything to happen outside the norm. So when he learned that a research expedition was being sent through the systems relay to map out the other side, he was all too eager to jump at the chance to do something new.

So when he learned that he would not be accompanying the expedition, merely waiting for their return on his side of the relay, Harrison was upset, to say the least.

_What the hell kind of sense does this make _he thought with an internal scowl, keeping his face neutral so that his crew didn't see his dissatisfaction with his orders. Glancing around, he watched the controlled chaos around him on the bridge of his ship, the _Mercy_, and it calmed him down somewhat. He would do his job, regardless of how stupid he thought it was. Still, he couldn't fathom why his superiors had decided to order him to stay and guard his side of the relay instead of accompanying the researchers. If they encountered trouble, they would be caught defenseless, and that would undoubtedly result in a lot of dead innocents.

He glanced at the holographic display in front of him again, its blue glow calming him down even further. He was glad that it wasn't some aggravating color like red. He had enough stress to worry about without the colors around him subconsciously stressing him out even more.

Before that train of thought could really leave the station, however, Harrison refocused on the holographic display. The systems mass relay was highlighted in light blue and situated in the center of the display, while his ships were highlighted in white and were all around the relay. He arrayed his small fleet in a standard defensive position around the relay should something other than the researchers come through. He had the _Mercy_, a cruiser, in front and above where anyone coming from the relay would be, both weapons and shields ready for anything. Around the relays drift zone, where a ship would drift into upon using the relay, he had his eight frigates surrounding the area and slightly above it, aiming down. Having all his ships above the drift zone would make it take just a little bit longer for any enemy ships to align their main guns. Harrison was hoping that, should worse come to worse, that bit of extra time would ensure his victory.

The _Mercy _itself was an Alliance cruiser, coming in at 750 meters, it could punch holes in anything equal to or under its weight class. Thanks to an oversized mass effect core that allowed for more power-draw on both the weapons and shields, the cruiser acted as back-up to the faster moving frigates in the Alliance armada. While the frigates would pepper the enemy ships with rapid fire and too quick to target movements, the cruiser would blast the enemy with mass accelerated rounds from afar, and hopefully draw fire away from the frigates.

The frigate, on the other hand, was smaller by about 200 meters and was all about firing as many shots at the enemy as possible, and getting the hell out of dodge before the enemy could fire back. Acting more like fighter craft, they would swarm enemy ships from all sides, making sure that the enemy never had a chance to rest. They were equipped with three small spinal mounted guns that could either fire one at a time in a rapid swarm of rounds, or all at once for a larger, concentrated shot. While deadly, the power required to keep the frigate both moving and shooting leaves little power left for the shields, requiring that frigate pilots be the best of the best in order to dodge enemy fire.

Alliance ship design made their spacecraft look more like something meant to fly in atmosphere, rather than in space. They were very streamlined, the wings of the craft were pulled back, making them look like birds in the middle of a dive. The smaller, and subsequently faster, the ship, the "bigger the dive", or the further back the wings were pulled. Alliance ships were also painted a bright blue, giving them an almost aquatic feel, creating a spacecraft that looked like anything but.

Feeling secure in his formation, Harrison looked at the clock in the top right corner of the display and frowned. It was 1132 Earth time. The researchers had left little over an hour ago, and should have been back by now. Today was just supposed to be a preliminary scan of the relay on the other end of this one, to see if they could find out where it went. He wouldn't be surprised if they decided to go through it themselves, all in the name of science. Damn coats. They always made a mission more difficult.

"Sir." his sensors operator, Lieutenant von Ehrenstein-Smith, referred to simply as Smith by the rest of the crew due to an unwillingness to say his full name every time someone needed to talk to him, called out. "Somethings coming through the relay. Looks like one of the research ships judging by my readings." he said with an almost undetectable sigh of relief. _I guess I'm not the only one who thought this was taking too long _Harrison thought.

Before he could reply, the relay glowed a bright blue and spit out the researchers. The condition they were in brought one question to his mind.

_What the hell?_

"Sir," Smith called out, tension thick in his voice. "The research vessel has been damaged."

Harrison could only grumble at how big an understatement that was. The researchers ship had obviously fallen under attack. Just by looking at it on the display, he could see fires spewing out of the ship, and by how fast it was moving either most, if not all, of its engines had been blasted. Soon Smith scanned the ship, knowing the captain would only tell him to anyway. The reports indicated that most of the ship was depressurized, and that most of the crew had been killed. The thought brought a grimace to Harrison's face. He hated being right sometimes.

"Sir," the communications officer, Lieutenant Garcia, called out to him, grabbing his attention instantly. "They're hailing us." she said with wide eyes and eagerness in her tone. It was obvious she wanted to know what happened to them as much as he did.

"Patch it through." he said sternly, harsher than he meant to. Garcia almost flinched at his tone, but complied all the same. Harrison internally kicked himself for not restraining himself while bringing he brought his attention back to the display. He needed to keep calm, if only to keep his crew calm as well.

A few moments later the image of the research ship disappeared and was replaced by the image of a Lokatae in a white lab-coat. Harrison recognized it as the head researcher, Filna Lilup. Unlike last time he saw her, her blue feathers and head-crest were now all ruffled, poking out in all directions, instead of the clean, combed back look that most Lokatae sported. Her big, blue eyes were as wide as they could possibly be, and her beak clicked open as she spoke.

"Captai..." she said, all sound from the connection fading for a moment before coming back, a sign that their communications had been damaged. "Captain Harrison, do you read me?" her head crest feathers were drooped and her voice was wavering. She was clearly terrified.

"Yes Ms. Lilup, I read you." Harrison replied, voice neutral, but he was having trouble locking down the concern and confusion that seeped through his eyes. "What is going on?" he asked, not really wanting to know but knowing he had to.

Filna was silent for a long time, the fear in her eyes never dying down. For a moment Harrison wondered if she even heard what he said, but before he could repeat himself the Lokatae mumbled something, so quite he couldn't hear it.

"Say again Filna, what happened?" he said, forgoing formalities and trying to appeal to her. Every second she stared at him in silence, her fear grew ever more apparent, creating a mask of petrified terror on her face that only served to fill Harrison with dread. When she spoke again, it was barley above a whisper.

"They're here."

Harrison blinked, realization dawning on him slowly. When he glanced around the bridge, he saw the same reaction on everyone else's face, one of terse consternation. Was she really saying that...

"They're here." she said again, louder than before, interrupting his train of thought. Her voice was saturated with fear, but also conviction. He thought about asking if she was sure, but he knew damn well that she was. Any Lokatae would be.

Masking the dread he felt inside him, his face took on an expression of grim determination. He looked around the bridge and saw all eyes on him. The controlled chaos of before turned into a pressing silence. On the faces of the bridge crew he saw worry, fear and despair. But he also saw anger, determination and hope. It was the last three he needed to rally in everyone, for the fight ahead of them would likely help determine either the destruction or the continuation of the Alliance, of both the Lokatae and of Humanity.

"So be it." he said, loud enough for everyone to hear. He then set his gaze back on Filna, who still looked terrified out of her mind. He tried to pour as much confidence as he could into his next words, giving her a look filled with sincerity.

"We're going to get you out of here, and then we're going to kick their asses."

The simplicity of what he said did wonders for the moral of the crew. Those who had just seconds ago been filled with fear were now rallying with those who had no doubt. Cheers erupted on the bridge, at first making Filna flinch from the abrupt noise, but it soon began to calm her down. She then nodded and looked back at the captain, her eyes no longer threatening to pop out of her head.

"Then I wish you luck." she said with a nod. Her thanks went unsaid.

"I don't need luck." Harrison said with a slight smirk, earning a slight perking up of Filna's head-crest, the Lokatae equivalent.

Harrison looked up from the screen, eyeing his crew once more, silencing the crew without any command. His smirk grew into a grin, and he saw it echoed on many faces of his crew. They would beat the bastards, and everyone on his crew was willing to die to do so. It made him proud.

"They're already dead, am I right?" he asked, and the crew answered with a thunderous "SIR, YES SIR!"

Harrison nodded. "Then let's get to it."

Immediately the crew saluted as one and then went about their business. Ensigns ran about bringing reports from one station to another, and fingers danced across consoles. The sight made Harrison completely believe what he had said. If it came to it, he would see to it that his ship was the last thing the alien bastards ever saw.

* * *

_In the 21st century, mankind learned two truths. That there is other life in the galaxy, and that some of it is hostile. _

_In the year 2016, an alien race landed on Earth, thereby changing the very fabric of human existence in a single instant. Fortunately, the aliens that landed were peaceful, and wanted coexistence. The aliens that forced them to flee to Earth, however, weren't and didn't._

_The aliens were soon able to complete a translator so that they could communicate with humanity. What they had to say was frightening. They called themselves the Lokatae, and told humanity about how they were forced to flee from their home world, Inopor, due to an invasion by a hostile news shocked humanity to its very core. _

_Though debated heavily, the Aliens were allowed to take refuge on the planet, an operation made much easier since only several thousand were able to flee Inopor. Eventually the nations of the Earth, petrified by the fear of an invasion of Earth, ended their petty squabbles and united with the Lokatae under a single banner. Simply called the Alliance, they vowed that no alien species would do to humanity what happened to the Lokatae, and that they would defend each other, together._

* * *

A/N I was going to do a timeline, but then I figured it would be better to just get right into it, instead of forcing you to read a giant wall of mostly unimportant text.

Anyway, let me know what you think. Thank you.


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N:Hello dear readers. This chapter contains space combat, and it's the first time I've ever written space combat, so go easy on me. Tell me what you think and how I can improve it.  
_

_Anyway, I meant to get this out before Christmas, but a bunch of things came up and interrupted my writing. Regardless, merry (late) Christmas and happy new year. Now on with the story._

* * *

Captain Harrison looked at the display, specifically at another readout of the research ship. It was still slowly limping further away from the relay, apparently still moving due to built up momentum left over from when it had engines. Harrison nodded to himself absently, they needed to get that ship out of the way.

"Garcia," he called out, gaining the woman's attention, "contact the _Gratitude_, tell them to tow that research ship out of harms way and get back into formation as soon as possible. Tell every one else to maintain formation and make sure that weapons, shields and engines are ready, and place the fleet on high alert. That goes for you too, Carmine."

"Yes sir." Garcia and Carmine, the weapons officer, said in unison. "Bastards wont know what hit 'em." Carmine added with a smirk. Harrison had already ordered the small fleet to have their weapons ready, but a last minute check to make sure things were running properly could mean the difference between life and death. Harrison had learned that the hard way.

He watched both the display and Garcia intently, counting the seconds before his orders had been relayed. The sooner they got the surviving researchers out of the way, the better. Fortunately he didn't have to wait long, as soon enough the frigate _Gratitude _was on the move, going as fast as it could towards the still drifting research vessel. The _Gratitude _was the closest ship to the researchers, the research ship drifting to right in front and below it, but it would still take some time to line up the frigate correctly in order to send out the tow cable, a matter made even more difficult by the fact that the research ship couldn't stop.

"Computer," he said out loud, now satisfied that the researchers would soon be out of harms of way, "bring up file designate 2122189114, clearance level Omega." The file number had been ingrained into the captains memory, as it was with every ship captain in the Alliance navy. It was the file that contained every bit of intel the Alliance had on the aliens that drove the Lokatae from Inopor, from ship specs to known tactics.

"Voice pattern recognized. Access granted to Captain William H. Harrison, identification number 517625-C-WK. Opening file." the ships computer droned in a slightly feminine voice.

On the holographic display in front of the captain an orange file appeared, opening up into a giant wall of text, pictures and diagrams. Using his finger, Harrison scrolled down to the ship specs of the aliens, from their capabilities to their design. It had been a while since he reviewed the information, and he felt he needed a touch-up for the coming face-to-face.

In the early days of the Alliance, this file had been shoved down the throats of every officer of the rank of captain and over as if it were a religious text. An abridged version was even made mandatory reading for captains of civilian vessels, in case of the event that they came across the hostile species. After over a hundred years since the exodus of the Lokatae without any sign of the aliens, though, Alliance command had gotten a little lax on memorization of the file. Harrison found himself almost wishing they hadn't.

In the middle of scrolling, the captain noticed a picture of one of the aliens, and he took a moment to examine what they looked like, if only for a brief moment. The alien in the picture had matte grey skin, blood red armor and piercing green eyes staring defiantly at a Lokatae pointing an assault rifle at its face. The aliens had quickly gained a reputation during the battle for being incredibly disciplined, acting as if nothing could frighten them, let alone death.

What shocked the Lokatae the most when they were first attacked was how similar their enemy was to them. Indeed, the alien Harrison was looking at right now looked, to put it bluntly, like a Lokataen with metal plates. Of course, there were differences, like the spiky fringe instead of a feathery crest, and these aliens had mandibles, unlike the Lokatae. Harrison couldn't imagine what that would be like for the Lokatae, finding out that not only is there other life in the galaxy, but they also looked almost exactly like you. And then they wanted to kill you.

_At least there isn't a species of blue women wanting to have sex with the first alien they see. That crap can stay on Star Trek _Harrison grumbled at the thought.

The aliens also seemed to like to decorate themselves with some kind of war paint, as the alien in the picture exemplified with purple marks that went horizontally across its face. Whether the purpose of the paint was for identification or intimidation or any number of other possibilities, no one knew.

What infuriated both the Lokatae and humanity to no end, however, was that they could never place a name to the species. Even during the short war the Lokatae fought for control of Inopor, they never once learned the name of their attacker. This lead to a wide array of names the Lokatae created to refer to their enemy, from the more dramatic 'fallen angel' to the more basic 'metal head'. Nowadays, most people called them 'Metaloks', a term first coined by a prominent human researcher. Upon viewing an image of one the aliens for the first time, he exclaimed, "Wow, they look like metal Lok's!" and the term stuck.

Harrison shook his head. He needed to get back to work. Scrolling down the rest of the way, he finally reached the information he was looking for; their ship specs.

When the aliens invaded Inopor, they first had to go through the Lokataen fleet, which sounds more difficult than it actually turned out to be. The Lokatae were still inexperienced in space combat, and it showed. The alien ships had their Lokataen equals outgunned, outmaneuvered and outclassed at every turn. Lokataen ships were faster, but that was the only advantage they had, and it wasn't enough for their comparatively rookie captains to beat the enemy. The aliens simply had better training, more firepower, stronger shields, and outnumbered them roughly 3 to 1. The only reason the Lokataens that escaped managed to do so was because the rest of the fleet not performing evacuations had literally sacrificed itself, allowing the fleeing ships to make a jump to FTL before the invaders could even notice.

Thankfully, the Alliance had upgraded the Lokataen ship design, putting them on a more level playing field with the metaloks. A more pragmatic part of Harrison had to remind him that if the Lokatae had advanced in a hundred years, then so too did the metaloks, making the data they had on them obsolete, but he quickly pushed that thought to the back of his mind. Even if they had, Harrison needed to make sure they didn't get to Shanxi, or anywhere else for that matter, so there was no point in thinking about it.

That thought gave Harrison more resolve, and he quickly scanned the information, specifically about their average shield strength and how long it took them to align their main guns. Most of the information wasn't even fully confirmed though, as it was collected by the Lokatae over a century ago while they were trying to defend their planet, but it was the best they had.

After reading a little bit, Harrison minimized the file to check the progress of the _Gratitude _and the research ship. The two ships had barely moved from their position since he last saw them. _Looks like they just got the cable set up _he thought, scowling. _Hopefully they can make it to a safe distance before..._

As if the universe was anticipating his next thought, the bridge exploded into a mess of movement and sound. Fingers began dancing rapidly at their consoles as an annoying klaxon blared throughout the room.

"Report!" Harrison yelled, straining to be heard above the cacophony of noise.

"Contacts coming through the relay, sir." Smith yelled back, voice tense. "Seven of them if I'm reading this correctly. One cruiser analogue and six frigate analogues."

Harrison cursed under his breath. He wasn't ready for them yet. The researchers were still in danger, and he only outnumbered the aliens by one, though he might as well not have since one of his ships was practically a civilian for the moment.

"Alright, Garcia!" he called, "Tell the fleet to hold fire unless fired upon or I give the signal. I want to try talking to the aliens, so hail them as soon as they get through the relay. And tell the _Gratitude _to keep pulling the coats out of here, but they need to get back here as soon as possible."

"Yes sir." she replied, hands instantly flying over her console as she set about her task.

"Carmine..." Harrison began, only to be interrupted by the man. Normally Harrison wouldn't have accepted such behavior, but at the moment time was in short supply.

"Weapons and shields ready to go, sir!" the lieutenant called out.

"Okay-" Harrison began, only to be interrupted again, this time by his sensors operator.

"Contacts are through the relay. One cruiser and six frigates." Smith paused slightly before he continued, what he was about to say obviously taking its toll on him. "It's them, sir."

Harrison could understand the mans apprehension. No matter what happened, they would be both living and making history. _Lets just hope history doesn't repeat itself _he thought grimly.

"Sir," Garcia said, interrupting the captains musings, "all ships have acknowledged orders, hailing contacts." In a shorter amount of time than Harrison expected, Garcia spoke again.

"Connection established."

But before Harrison could say anything, the aliens, or what he presumed to be the aliens, interrupted him with a series of clicks and snaps. Though Harrison couldn't understand any of it, he could get the tone behind it. Whatever they were saying, they were angry, to put it bluntly. Then it ended abruptly, and everything went to hell.

"Sir," Smith yelled, panic evident in his voice, "energy signatures on the three front most alien ships powering up. I think they're weapons, and I think they're targeting the researchers and _Gratitude_."

"Dammit," Harrison bellowed with a snarl, "I want firing solutions for the whole fleet on those ships. Garcia, warn Shanxi, tell them what's going on!"

A chorus of yes sirs answered him, plunging the bridge further into controlled chaos. Harrison glanced up at the holographic display, noticing for the first time that the enemy formation was highlighted, now in red, on it. Harrison mentally kicked himself for not paying attention to this sooner, but everything that had happened had kept his attention elsewhere.

The metaloks were in an arrowhead formation, their frigates extending out to form the arrowhead with their cruiser behind and in the center of the formation. Having them clustered together like that would hopefully make them easier to deal with, but Harrison knew that anything could happen in a battle.

"Sir," Garcia called out, "incoming transmission from the _Fortitude_."

"The _Fortitude _is breaking formation and accelerating. Final coordinates on screen." Smith said, adding to Garcia's report, a certain grimness in his tone.

"What the hell is Dale doing? Patch it through, Garcia!" Harrison demanded, earning a swift yes sir from the woman. A few seconds later she gave him a thumbs up, indicating that the connection was made.

"Frigate _Fortitude_, this is _Mercy_, what the hell are you doing, Dale?" Harrison said out loud, knowing the captain of the frigate could hear him on his ship. He then glanced at the display, what he saw making him do a double-take, and he understood why Smith had sounded so grim. The _Fortitude _was moving so that it was in between the hostile ships and the civilians.

"I'm doing my duty, captain Harrison." Juka Dale responded. The slightly musical quality to his voice, that all Lokatae possessed, was downcast and somber. He was a man resigned to his fate.

"Get back into formation, Dale." Harrison ordered firmly, though he knew in the back of his mind that there was nothing he could do to convince the man to listen. An even smaller part of him, one he didn't want to listen to right now, knew that what the Lokataen was doing was right.

"Negative, captain. My crew and I will buy the _Gratitude _some time to get the civilians to safety. We are happy to do so, but we have only one request for you." the Lokatae replied, the somber tone in his voice now mixing with determination.

"And what would that be?" Harrison asked, knowing he couldn't stop the man, even if he tried.

"Make them pay." Dale said in a growl, his voice filled with anger. Then the line went dead, leaving the bridge of the _Mercy _in a deafening silence. Harrison looked around the bridge to see solemn dread painted on everyone's faces. He looked back at the display, watching the _Fortitude _move into position while _Gratitude _continued to slowly tug the research vessel away from the battlefield. The dread he felt in himself was soon replaced by fury. These alien bastards thought they could just waltz wherever they pleased, killing whoever they wanted without consequence. It was high time someone taught them a lesson, and Harrison would see to it that it was him to teach them that lesson. One way or another, he _would _make them pay.

"You heard the man." he yelled out suddenly, causing most of the bridge crew to flinch. "We have them surrounded and we've got the high ground. They don't stand a chance." at that, many of the crew nodded, a fierce look in their eyes replacing the dread that had washed over them moments before. "I want firing solutions on those bastards yesterday! Lets give them hell!" with that he was answered with a booming chorus of acknowledgement, sending the bridge into a highly coordinated dance of running feet and typing fingers. Not too long after that the holographic display lit up with red trails going from the ships in his fleet to their respective targets, signifying that they all had a lock-on.

"Weapons ready, sir!" Smith called out, snapping Harrison's attention to the younger man. He nodded, a smirk forming on his lips. He would enjoy this.

"All ships, fire at will!" he yelled, and a deep rumbling within the ship answered him. He turned his attention back to the display to watch what happened next.

The enemy cruiser had been categorized as the biggest threat by the ships computer so the _Mercy _had chosen it as its target. The single mass accelerated round mixed in with the swarm of other rounds shot at the enemy fleet, creating a deadly wave speeding right for the aliens.

The enemy ships aiming at the researchers fired in this moment as well, sending three rounds charging for the limping ship. For a moment it looked as if the _Fortitude _wouldn't make it in time, but at the last second it pulled up in front of the enemy salvo, sparing the researchers.

As the rounds hit, the lone frigate's shields flickered and died in an instant, the already weak shields no match for that kind of punishment. Three gaping holes were punched through the ship, one of them going through the mass effect core, and the ship exploded in a bright ball of blue and orange.

The sight caused Harrison's breath to hitch in his throat. He had lost people under his command before, it came with the job, but he still hadn't gotten used to it. He supposed that was a good thing, it let him know that he was still human and not just some killing machine, but sometimes he wished he couldn't...feel. That he was just a robot that couldn't form connections or feel...anything. It would surely make this job easier.

But then he looked at the research ship once more, still being towed by the _Gratitude. _If he couldn't feel, then he wouldn't feel a duty to protect the innocent. He'd be no better than these aliens.

The thought made him snarl, and he forced his concentration back onto the enemy fleet. They had taken evasive action, weaving and turning every which way to try to escape the opening salvo. The cruiser had it easier than the frigates, who were trying to avoid the rapid, continuous fire from Harrison's frigates. In contrast, the enemy cruiser only had a single round that was much slower, albeit much stronger. Fortunately for it, it had enough time to move just enough that when the round hit, it only grazed the shields of one of the wings.

It was then Harrison noticed something odd about the alien vessels. They looked exactly like the pictures in their file. At first Harrison didn't think much of it, as it was the same species, so of course they would be the same. But the pictures in the file were over a hundred years old, and still they looked exactly the same. It was almost as if the pictures had jumped out of the file and were now shooting at his fleet themselves. But surely they would have evolved their ship design in some way, advanced their technology, upgraded their armament? Could it be that they were lucky enough to be fighting a stagnating enemy?

More movement from the enemy ships interrupted his train of thought, as they were now trying to align their main guns. He needed to get his own ships moving.

"Garcia, tell the frigates to get their asses moving. I need them to draw away the enemy frigates while we take on the cruiser." he ordered hurriedly, trying to talk a mile a minute. He glanced at the display again, checking the progress of the _Gratitude_. They had almost pulled the research ship completely out of danger, but he needed that ship now. _It'll have to do _he thought with a grimace, not particularly comfortable with leaving the researchers alone. "Tell the _Gratitude _to detach its cable and let the coats drift. We need their help on the cruiser." he added, Garcia already tapping away at the console in front of her. Now the real battle began.

The Alliance frigates charged down at the enemy frigates, still blasting away, making use of every second they could fire on them until they had to disengage and flank to a better position. It wasn't long until the metaloks were able to align their main guns, and fire a barrage of their own. Unfortunately for them the Alliance frigates were too fast, easily avoiding the slugs. Nevertheless, both sides now had to engage in a deadly dance, jockeying for the better angle. Luckily that was just the sort of thing Alliance frigates were built for.

Harrison felt his cruiser lumber beneath him as it started moving forwards, towards the enemy cruiser. They needed to get closer so that their next shot couldn't be avoided. Harrison wasn't worried though, the enemy cruiser's shields were already weakened, even if only a little bit, and he had backup on the way.

As if to muddle his spirits, the enemy cruiser chose that moment to fire. The shot lanced out of the ship, a bright orange contrasting with the black of space. "Evasive action, but keeps us aligned!" Harrison bellowed, and he felt the inertia dampeners kick in as the ship lurched to the side. The _Mercy_'s charge worked for her enemy as well, as it was too hard for the ship to completely avoid the shot, as it grazed their starboard side.

"Shields at 89% strength, sir!" Carmine called out, not even waiting for the obvious question. Harrison grit his teeth at the announcement. Luckily that wasn't a direct hit, but they needed to end this skirmish fast.

He looked at the display again, seeing the holographic form of the _Gratitude _weaving through the battlefield on its way to aid his ship, avoiding stray shots all the way.

"Garcia, tell the _Gratitude _to flank the enemy cruiser and try to draw as much of their point-defenses as possible, but they need to stay alive! Carmine, are the missiles ready?" he yelled over the chaos of the bridge. Both Garcia and Carmine did the same, replying with curt 'yes sir's. _Good _Harrison thought, _we'll need those soon. _

"Fire the main gun again while we wait for the _Gratitude _to get into position." he ordered, and the ship began to shudder in response. The shuddering came to a climax as the round blasted out of the main gun of the _Mercy_, racing towards the enemy cruiser. The close proximity made it too difficult for them to avoid the shot, and it hit them dead on. The shields still deflected it, but the increased flickering proved that they were now wavering.

Unfortunately for them, the _Gratitude _was now in position behind them, their rapid fire canon hitting their backside and draining their shields further. Almost immediately the ships point defenses lit up in response to the new threat, hundreds of small mass accelerated rounds and lasers desperately trying to destroy the small frigate. Only the lasers seemed to hit, melting away some of the ships hull as it passed. They couldn't take that kind of damage for long, but they already provided the distraction Harrison needed.

"Fire maelstrom missiles 1-50 and the Hiroshima class nuke a few seconds after!" he bellowed, the order earning several smirks across the bridge.

The maelstrom missile was an important part in the Alliance arsenal, acting as both a shield buster and ship killer. A few seconds after the missile is launched, it reveals itself to be ten missiles stuck together that then spread themselves out. While not very deadly individually, in large swarms these missiles prove to be very effective. The idea is to launch hundreds upon hundreds of missiles at the enemy in an effort to overcome their point defenses, at once ensuring that enough missiles hit the target and that any friendly frigates and fighters attacking the ship gain a small reprieve from point-defense fire. The only drawback was that they usually had to be fired when very close to the enemy, to make sure that enough missiles made it.

The hiroshima class nuke, on the other hand, was all about putting as much destructive power as possible into one missile. Armed with ten times the power as the nuke that was dropped on the city it was named after, it was costly but highly effective. To make sure it hit the target, Harrison was using the maelstrom missiles as a screen to hopefully hide the nuke until it was too late. It, unfortunately, worked best on unshielded targets, prompting his next order.

"Fire the main gun again, and I don't care if it's not fully charged." he said, interrupting Carmine before he could protest. The ship rumbled again, this time a lot more forcefully as both the main gun fired and the missiles launched. The round from the main gun sped ahead of the wave of missiles, slamming into the enemy cruiser once again. It hit with less power this time, as it wasn't fully charged, and the shields of the enemy ship were still up. Harrison scowled at that. Hopefully the maelstrom missiles would be enough to take down the shields.

A few seconds into their flight, the maelstrom missiles separated, increasing their number from 50 to 500, all racing towards the enemy cruiser. Not to go down without a fight, the cruiser focused its point defenses all turned their attention to the veritable wall of explosives heading for the ship. Immediately dozens of the missiles were destroyed, but their were just too many for the point defenses to handle, and they showed no sign of stopping.

Seeing their chance, the _Gratitude _came around for another pass, peppering the shields of the cruiser once more. In response the cruiser refocused some of its point defenses onto the frigate, allowing even more missiles to survive the onslaught. In the end, it was all for naught, as the maelstrom missiles soon found their mark.

Over 400 of the original 500 of the missiles hit the cruisers shields and they, combined with the fire from the frigate, were finally able to take down the cruisers shields, which flickered out of existence to the relief of the _Mercy_'s crew. The nuke, which had thankfully survived, had been closely following the maelstrom missiles, ready to hit the ship as soon as the shields were down. Before the cruiser could react, the nuke hit its bow. The following explosion was both magnificent and horrifying, making Harrison feel a small amount of sympathy for the metaloks. If only for a second.

As soon as the nuke hit, it erupted into a bright red-orange explosion that consumed half the ship. When it finally subsided, Harrison saw that only the back half of the ship was left, the rest being consumed by the fireball, and the force of the explosion caused what was left of the ship to drift aimlessly in space. A second later the radiation released by the nuke washed over the _Mercy_, causing displays and the like around the entire bridge to go blank. Luckily the backup power system came on shortly after, all the displays lighting up once more.

The sight of what was once an enemy cruiser brought smiles to everyones face, but that was as far as they went. They knew that battle wasn't over just yet.

"Status report, now!" Harrison barked, wasting no time over the victory.

"Backup power online!" Smith said. "Everything's running at 50% efficiency, sir."

"Shields at 68%." Carmine added, frowning. "Weapons aren't doin' so hot. Nuke took more out of us than I thought."

Harrison frowned as well at the report. That was worse than he had been expecting. At least the enemy cruiser was done for, but the enemy frigates might still be able to do some damage.

"How's the fleet doing?" he asked, bringing his attention to the holographic display.

"Not as well as we'd like." Smith said sullenly in lieu of a response, bringing up the relative data on the display. The remark earned several foreboding looks from around the bridge, and everyone looked at the captain as he read the report.

Three of the enemy frigates had been destroyed, and the other three were now running for the Relay. Two of them looked damaged, as parts of them were missing and there were small fires about them, but the other one looked as if it didn't take much, if any, damage at all. Harrison switched his attention to his own side, and frowned at what he saw. One of his frigates, the _Supremacy_, had been destroyed, lost with all hands. Two others had been critically damaged, now dead in the water. The other four had taken damage, but not enough to put them out of the fight.

"We've lost a ship." Harrison said out loud to the bridge crew, many of their faces turning glum at the news, the elation brought by the destruction of the enemy cruiser easily outdone by the death pf some of their comrades. Soon after silence fell onto the bridge, as each member gave a moment of quite for the fallen.

"Sir, the fleet is requesting permission to pursue the enemy ships." Garcia said in a quite whisper, not rally wanting to break the silence. Harrison inhaled sharply, shaking his head of the gloom that had befallen his ship. They would mourn the dead later. Now was the time for vengeance.

"Permission granted." he said sternly, the order launching everyone back into motion. "We're going after them, too. Put as much power into the engines as possible so we can catch up to them." he ordered, a chorus of 'yes sir's answering him. The ship began to lurch once more as it sped after the fleeing aliens. They weren't going very fast, because even though they were putting as much power into the engines as possible, they were still relying on backup power, the effects of the nuke still not completely worn off.

The enemy frigates were nearing the relay, causing Harrison to scowl. It would be up to his frigates to destroy them, as the _Mercy _wouldn't be able to catch them in time. The Alliance frigates sped after the enemy regardless, firing their weapons all the way. One of the already damaged metalok frigates was peppered with fire, and couldn't take any more, erupting into a satisfying explosion, sending pieces of the frigate flying every which way. Soon after the other damaged frigate followed it into death, exploding into a magnificent ball of orange. The four Alliance frigates now all focused their fire on the last enemy frigate, but it was too close. It would make it through the relay.

"Garcia, patch me through to the fleet." he ordered, only waiting a second for the order to be complete. "All ships, this is Harrison. Do not, I repeat, do NOT follow the ship through the relay. If it makes it through, end your pursuit."

Harrison resumed watching the display, hoping that they could destroy the bastards before they escaped. But, as if to mock him, fate decided that they would go free.

The enemy frigate made it to the relay right as its shields collapsed. The relay seemed to reach out for the frigate with an electric arm and flung it to safety before they could finish it off. It took some cosmetic damage, but that was all they could get from it.

Harrison stared at the display for a long moment, scowling. The bridge crew sat in stunned silence, looking from one another and to the captain. Looking for some indication of what they should do next.

Harrison broke the silence with the grace of a charging elephant, barking out a new set of orders.

"Garcia, tell the fleet to tow our critical's and rendezvous in sector Alpha, then get a link to command. Carmine, getting the weapons and shields up to snuff is priority one, so get on it. Everyone else, get our power situation solved immediately!"

The new orders rejuvenated the crew, and they went about their tasks with steady determination and concentration. The ship rumbled once more as it began to head for the rendezvous point, and Harrison could practically feel the strain it took on the ship. He glanced at the holographic relay on his display, wondering how long it would be before he saw it be used once more.

The battle had not gone as well as he had hoped. He had thought his superior positioning and the element of surprise would have made the battle an easy victory, but perhaps he underestimated the tenacity of the aliens. Regardless, the outcome of the battle had taken its toll on him, and did nothing but make him dread the coming of the next battle.

Harrison shook his head roughly and mentally kicked himself. No matter how he felt about his chances, he had ensured that the aliens would think twice about killing civilians of the Alliance. That alone was victory enough, even if the cost was too high for his liking.

"Sir?" a quite voice asked, interrupting his musing. He turned his head and saw that it came from an ensign of the bridge crew. The man looked up at him with a slight look of terror in his eyes, and a quiver in his voice. "Do you think they'll come back?"

Harrison eyed the man for a moment, seeing his fear. He looked around the bridge to see that the question had garnered the attention of everyone else on the bridge, who were all looking at him with varying versions of the same look on their faces.

"No." he said out loud, causing everyone to sigh in relief. "I know they'll be back." he added, causing everyone to once more look at him with fear. "But no matter what they send, we'll be here to meet them, and we'll do what we can." he finished. Everyone seemed to absorb those words, nodding. Harrison nodded as well. Even though they were all scared, even he was a little scared if he had to be honest, the would do their duty. Even if worse came to worse.

* * *

_A/N: Thanks for reading and, as always, thanks to those who review, follow and favorite my story. _

_I feel that the end of this chapter might be a little weak, maybe it's just me, but tell me what you think._

_Next chapter will be the beginning of the invasion of Shanxi I think, but we'll see how it goes.  
_

_P.S. I proofread this somewhat, but I'm a little pressed for time and wanted to get this out now when I had the chance, but I'll come back and do a better job when I have the chance, so please forgive any spelling/grammar errors. Thank you._


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: Sorry for the horrific wait time. I deeply apologize, I just got hit with some major writer's bloc, and couldn't bring myself to write anything new for this for quite sometime. But then I slapped myself a couple of times, reminded myself of all the favorites/follows and reviews, and got myself into high gear. Originally, this was supposed to be longer, but I figured I should give you something to show that this isn't dead. I might add more to this, depending on if I think it necessary, but we'll see.  
_

_But now, a question. Please let me know if you would like the chapters to be this long, longer, or perhaps even shorter. I'd like to see what you all think. Anyway, thanks for reading, and now lets get on with it._

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_September 6th, 2157_

"The second fleet under Admiral Drescher will be there in ASAP. The nearest reinforcements will be there tomorrow. You will be in charge until Drescher gets there, Rear Admiral." the Supreme Commander of all Alliance forces, Harold Bruns, said, idly slipping a promotion for Harrison into the sentence. Supreme Commander Bruns was an icy-cold, no-nonsense man, and Harrison wasn't surprised he didn't make a big deal out of the promotion. Even so, Harrison was a little surprised by it. After all, he merely did what any good captain would have been expected to do, and even then he had taken some casualties.

Harrison quickly ended that train of thought before it could leave the station. He had already personally told the families of the deceased what happened. He didn't want to spend any more time thinking about it, not without some hard liquor anyway.

Refocusing on the debriefing, Harrison couldn't help but ask a question that was gnawing at his mind, even if he already knew the answer.

"What if the metaloks return before Drescher gets here, sir?"

He received a hard stare in response, the Supreme Commander not giving away any emotion. The leader of all the Alliance's armed forces was renowned for his icy exterior, a man which nothing could faze. He was intimidating to both the bravest of soldiers and the most cunning of politicians. Add to that the fact he was a master tactician, and Harrison wasn't surprised he had climbed the ladder all the way to the top. When the Supreme Commander finally spoke, it was in a hard voice that gave no indication of the emotions behind it.

"Then you will do your duty, as is expected of you."

Harrison could only nod, unsure of how to respond. He hadn't expected anything more, but it was clear that both of them felt the same way about Harrison's chances. If the metaloks returned before Admiral Drescher got there, Harrison could only buy the colony time to prepare.

With a look of resignation, Harrison gave his superior a crisp salute, earning one from the Supreme Commander in return. "Yes sir." he said with as much confidence as he could muster, forcing his doubt and worry to the back of his mind.

"Good luck, Rear Admiral William Harrison." Bruns said with an air of finality.

The image of the Supreme Commander blinked out of existence on Harrison's private terminal, signifying that the call had ended. Harrison let his hand fall down to his side, and his shoulders sagged. He was dead tired, spending the whole day on briefings and preparations for the return of the metaloks. While not one to let sleep get in the way of work, Harrison had promised his XO that he would get some semblance of a regular sleep cycle before everything went to hell. 'Tired captains get people killed', he had said, and when Harrison accidentally started the coffee maker without having a cup ready to receive the coffee, he couldn't help but agree.

Harrison looked around his private cabin, chuckling at how spartan it looked. He knew other captains that adorned their cabins with things like paintings, bookshelves, model ships and even a fish tank. Not him though, all he had was a bed, a desk and a window. That was all he felt he needed.

A part of him regretted that. Regretted that he hadn't enjoyed the little things more. He had been a career soldier, through and through. That meant that anything and everything else was left on the back burner. He didn't have any family, even if he had wondered about starting one, though that would have forced him to retire. He wouldn't put any hypothetical family through the burden of having to fear that he would never return. But the military was the only life he ever knew, and the Alliance was the closest thing he had to a family, taking him in after his parents died. How could he leave all that behind.

He couldn't, and so he hadn't.

Harrison took a deep breath, glancing at his bed, the black sheets almost beckoning to him. He supposed it was the right call, making sure he was ready enough to deal with the return of the alien invaders. All they could do until then was wait and hope they were ready, after all.

With that thought, Harrison climbed into his bed, not even bothering to take off his uniform. Just the thought of sleep made him realize just how tired he was, and he felt like he would collapse any second. Wrapping the blankets around himself, he fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

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_September 7th, 2157_

In the day it took for the first reinforcements to get there, Harrison had gotten very little done. There was nothing he could do except come up with plans and contingencies, and contingencies for those contingencies, and basically anything except make progress. It didn't help that for all the sleep Harrison had gotten, none of it seemed to help matters. If anything it only made the situation worse.

Harrison wasn't prone to nightmares, but when he closed his eyes was death and destruction, fire and smoke. Perhaps it was a premonition, or just his subconscious messing with him. Either way, all it did was sour his mood.

They did have one positive effect though. The images that plagued him every night served to push Harrison, force him to view the situation from every angle, use different modes of thinking. Because of this he had come up with a plan, even if it would only buy the planetary defenders some time. It was the best he could do with the cards he was dealt. All he had to work with were his original forces plus the four frigates and cruiser that arrived. They had been the detachment protecting the nearby colony world of Providence.

Providence was one of the Alliance's newest, out-of-the-way colonies, not in a system linked to the Relay network, therefore it didn't have any military or economic significance just yet. Plans were in the works, but they hadn't been carried out yet. As such, the colony was deemed expendable and its defenders were sent to Shanxi. While not much, they were still better than no reinforcements at all.

Of course, if worse came to worse-and Harrison was sure that it would-it wouldn't really matter that much in the end.

"Connors, you have the me know if something happens." he said aloud, his XO merely nodding his consent. As Harrison walked off the bridge and towards his cabin, he contemplated the situation once more, feeling as confident as he could be that they would do a sizable amount of damage if-or rather when-the time came. Still, it was really all just conjecture until the enemy actually showed up. Harrison couldn't decide if he wanted them to take their time or just hurry up and get here already. Either way, he and the rest of the defenders would do what they could when they finally did show up.

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_September 8th, 2157_

Admiral Tilus Meladum of the Turian Hierarchy Navy was a well respected soldier and tactician. His family had proven themselves time and again in all things military, and they were an example by which many a Turian lived by. They had fought valiantly in all the wars that made the Hierarchy what it was today, both the Unification war and the Krogan rebellions. They had made and directed history with their campaigns. Tilus didn't know how his current mission would compare to all that, but he hoped he made them proud, regardless.

Several weeks ago, word had gotten to the Hierarchy about some strange relay activity in an uninhabited system, meaning that either a new species had arisen from their home world, or someone was breaking standing Citadel law. Either way, Turian High Command decided that it needed to be investigated immediately.

Which was how Admiral Tilus found himself in this spirits-forsaken sector of space.

Tilus had had first hand experience with many pirates, taking part in or leading skirmishes and campaigns against pirates and slavers in both Council space and the traverse. He had been seen as a perfect candidate to deal with anything that might be encountered around Relay 314. Of course, Tilus wasn't really prepared for only one of his forward scouts to return, bearing news of a rouge group of Lokatae that destroyed all the other ships in the scouting party.

This complicated matters exponentially, as it was now clear that, somehow, a group of Lokatae had completely vanished from the eyes of the Council and Hierchy, and were even able to build warships of their own. He had contacted HIGHCOMM immediately after receiving the news, and he was ordered to ensure that this group did not become an even greater problem than they already were.

There was also another problem that Tilus was concerned about; the Lokatae in his fleet that were both in the Navy and ground forces. After the conquest of the Lokataen home-world of Inopor, the Lokatae were absorbed into the Hierarchy as a client race. This allowed them, among other things, to join the military and fight in the name of the Hierarchy. It wasn't a regular occurrence, a Lokatae joining the military, but it wasn't uncommon. As such, there were a number of Lokatae in the fleet, most of them in the ground forces aboard the ships, whose loyalty to the Hierarchy might be called in to question. Tilus couldn't let that happen.

As if on cue, there came a knock at the door to his private cabin. Before the admiral could allow them in, the door swooshed open and in walked Captain Liko Neera, with the Lokataen equivalent of a scowl on his face. Tilus grunted. He had not been looking forward to this meeting, but it was necessary.

"I assume by your attitude that you know why I asked you here?" he said, motioning his hand to offer the seat across from him at his desk, earning a glare from the Lokatae in return. If the admiral hadn't already met the Lokatae before, he might have been intimidated from the glare, the man before him looking pretty gruff already. Captain Liko was a veteran of the military, much like himself, and had seen plenty of action before this assignment, and it didn't seem to have treated him well. Liko looked older than the 30 years he really was, his feathers greying and drooping making him look tired when he was anything but. Most notably though, and the thing most people saw first, was his damaged right eye.

During one of his first deployments, Liko took part in an attack on a slaver base on the very edges of Council space. While the mission had been a success, many casualties were suffered on both sides, and Liko had just barely come out of the operation alive, almost falling in melee combat with a slaver that caught him off-guard. The slaver had stabbed the Lokatae in the eye, but Liko was able to kill him first before he could do any more damage. After the mission, he had been given the choice of getting a cybernetic replacement, but he declined, saying that it would serve as a constant reminder to always stay alert. It was a lesson he wanted to ensure that he learned.

"I'd prefer to stand, thank you." the Lokatae replied gruffly, leaving Tilus to shrug.

"Serve yourself." he said. "So, straight to business then. We'll be fighting a group of Lokataen rebels. Long story short, I want you to make sure that you and your kin don't have a...conflict of interests."

Liko scoffed. "We'll do our duty. That's all I can say."

Tilus eyed the Lokatae for a moment, pondering what to say next. When he spoke, he started slowly.

"Are you certain about that. We don't need someone on our side abandoning us and helping the enemy at the first chance they get..."

The admiral was interrupted by the Lokatae, his tone gruff and stern, his eyes burning daggers into the admiral's.

"We may not particularly care for the Hierarchy, but we like terrorists even less. So, as I said, we will do our duty, if only to protect our own."

The two men stared at each other for a moment, tension thick in the air. The admiral broke the staring contest first, nodding once and turning to the terminal on his desk.

"Very well. You are dismissed." he said, and the Lokatae immediately left his cabin, the swooshing of the door signaling his exit.

_That went about as well as expected _the Admiral thought to himself. He still wasn't sure he could trust the Lokatae, but there was really nothing he could do about it. He decided that, for the moment, he would just go over the report from the lone ship that survived the initial skirmish.

According to the captain of the ship, the scout flotilla encountered a number of small ships of Lokataen design trying to access an uncharted relay. Taking quick action, the ships were ordered destroyed for breaking standing Citadel law, and most were except for one that got away. They followed it and encountered a slightly bigger flotilla of Lokataen designed warships, and after informing them of their infractions the leader of the Turian scouts set about trying to finish the job they started with the smaller ships. Unfortunately, the enemy ships were tougher to kill than previously thought, and only one of his ships returned.

Reading through it again, only one question came to the Admirals mind. _How the hell could they slip away long enough to gather enough resources to build warships like that? _Finding an answer to that question, among other things, was one of his main objectives. The only clue they had were some strange readings taken from the ships and some intercepted communications. The readings indicated that there were non-Lokatae lifeforms aboard the ships, and the communications, while possibly just heavily encrypted, seemed to suggest that there were at least two languages being used. While nothing could be said for certain, both of these pieces of evidence meant that something very strange was going on. The implications were...unpleasant.

A beep from his terminal interrupted his thoughts, and the voice of the ships pilot came on shortly after.

"Admiral Meladum, we are nearing the relay, ETA 15 seconds."

"Copy that. Proceed with caution." he replied, feeling a little uneasy at what they might encounter beyond the relay as he left his cabin and walked through the halls of the ship towards the bridge. If all went well, it would only be the remainder of the ships his scouts encountered previously, meaning that they could blast through them with ease. Not only did the Turians significantly outnumber their enemy, they even had a dreadnaught at their disposal, Meladum's ship _Fist of the Hierarchy_, allowing him to command such firepower and number beyond anything the rebellious Lokatae could have. Even if they had gotten reinforcements, Tilus was skeptical that they would have anything to counter the force now bearing down on them.

_"All hands, prepare for Relay transit. I repeat, all hands prepare for Relay transit."_

A general alert sounded, interrupting the Admiral's musing. Shortly after he felt the ship shudder just barely as it went through the Mass Relay, the inertia dampeners doing all they could to make sure that slight shudder was all that was felt. _So far so good _Tilus thought, just before klaxons started blaring throughout the ship.

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General Williams, the man in control of all of the ground forces attached to Shanxi, stood in the colony's capital city of New Qingyang, specifically in the command center of the armed forces located on the planet. While everyone around him were briskly moving about, performing their own tasks and duties, the General merely stood still, eying a map of the city, trying to plan a defense. But no matter how hard he tried, he could not devise a plan that didn't end in either their surrender or their ruin. And surrender was completely out of the question.

They had just lost all contact with the defense fleet several minutes ago, the little flotilla no match for the invading fleet. They had bought them roughly over half an hour, positioning themselves behind the Mass Relay, so they would be behind the enemy fleet when they arrived. They had taken a few of the ships with them, seven out of the original 50, but in the end they had been destroyed, lost with all hands. Everyone in the command center had given a short moment of quite for their loss, but it didn't last long. They had other things to worry about right now. The dead would have to be mourned later.

Records from the invasion of Inopor indicated that the invaders preferred to deliver swift strikes of overbearing force in an effort to completely subdue their enemy, and what they could not accomplish with ground forces or air support, they were willing to accomplish with orbital bombardment. That was the thing that worried the general most. If it weren't for that, Williams would feel much more confident about their chances of conducting a successful campaign of guerrilla warfare against the metaloks. But now, it didn't matter how many more of the bastards they killed, they could always be annihilated by their ships guns.

Williams had decided early on that the best thing to do was to let the aliens invade what he described as a 'ghost town'. They needed to evacuate as many people as possible from New Qingyang and surrounding villages, scrub any data that might give the enemy intel, and flee to the countryside, or at least get the civilians as far away from the more-or-less 'urbanized' areas as possible. The marines, militia and anyone else willing to fight would then be free to fight a war in the city without the risk of civilian casualties. That was the hope, anyway.

The evacuations had, for the most part, gone well, but there were still a few groups of civilians stuck in the city, and with the invaders now bearing down on them, there was nothing he could really do to get them out except tell them to run and hope for the best. All transports of any kind were being recalled and positioned for the defense of the colony. Williams had left a few marines with them to escort them, but that was all that could be done. As for the groups of civilians already hiding in the wilderness, mostly in the forests that Williams was now eternally grateful the planet had, they were given some weapons and basic training. It was unexpected that they would have to defend themselves from the invaders, but there was plenty of local wildlife that might try to make a meal of them.

With the civilians in relative safety, Williams decided that the spaceport would have to be the first thing to go. While destroying the spaceport would deprive what little fighters he had at his disposal of a proper landing zone, he would have to be a fool to think that they could hold on to it for long, if at all once the invasion started. The local fighters, gunships and transports would just have to make do with improvised LZ's.

But they wouldn't destroy it immediately. They would wait for the aliens to land and use it first, and then blow it up with a lot of them inside. It was a bit of a gamble, but they had commandeered spaceports of the Lokatae during the invasion of Inopor, so Williams was confident they would do the same thing here. It wouldn't be a decisive blow by any means, but anything that lead to more enemy deaths and less from his own men was worth it.

The last of the preparations were falling into place now, but that left Williams with the difficulty of having to admit that he didn't know where to go from there. He had scattered units of troops throughout the city with the standing orders of 'cause as much trouble for the invaders as possible'. These 'cells' as it were, were still under Williams' command, but had the freedom to improvise if the situation called for it. Either way, they were to report back to central every night to report casualties suffered, enemy troop movements and anything else that might help the cause. Regardless, the overall goal was survival, to last as long as it took for reinforcements to arrive, and be a pain in the ass for the enemy while doing it.

While Williams was confident in his troops ability, he couldn't help but wonder if they all were only going to die in vain.

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_A/N: Here are some answers/responses to some reviews:_

_ CelticReaper: First off, thanks for the review. Secondly, after reading your review I was going to add it to that community, but when I got around to doing it I found that someone else did it for me. I'm assuming it was you, so thank you. If it wasn't you, then thanks to whoever did it for me._

_ Castage: Thanks for the review. I will try my best to make this story unique, and that means not really following the games plot through and through. While some stories that do this are pretty good, I understand that sometimes it's just a little boring. As per the Star Trek joke, no there weren't blue alien women, (at least, not to my knowledge). As someone else pointed out, it was a bad attempt at meta-humor. _

_ Glaziola: Thanks for the review. I'm glad you decided to give me a chance despite my bad jokes. I'm going to try my best to make this unique, and also to update regularly. I don't have a set schedule from which I can devote time to this project, but I'll write when I can._

_ PyroSolracIII: Thanks for the review. I really wanted to make an at least somewhat exotic race to ally with Humanity, so I'm glad to see that at least one person thought I succeeded. As for the element zero trap, yes Humanity has fallen into it, but mostly in an attempt to improve upon Lokataen design, who brought the concept to earth. As for advancing tech, I'll just say that no one will be stagnating for long. As for the info, I'm still debating whether or not to do a codex type thing. I, personally, like it more when such information is introduced in the narrative when it becomes important, but that's just me. I will try to include information like that in future chapters, though. _

_And to those who reviewed but didn't ask a specific question, I simply give you my thanks. If you did ask a question and I didn't answer it here, then it is either answered in the chapter, or I simply forgot. In the latter case, feel free to PM me directly, and I'll do my best to answer your question._

_Anyway, next chapter will be the invasion of Shanxi proper. I promise. _


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